Lost
by Philately-fun
Summary: GS - A case goes bad. New chapter 15405
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: These people belong to the wonderful writers of CSI. Not me. But you knew that.

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Sara Sidle crawled into bed after another endless night working the graveyard shift. She was used to sleeping away the sunny days, and honestly, she didn't mind. There was nothing in the world she'd rather be doing. Her work was her life. 

Her heavy blinds closed out the desert sun, barely letting a single ray in.

Placing down her Science journal, she reached out to switch out the light, then turned over and curled into a tight warm ball. Closing her eyes, she began to drift off.

_Creak._

Her eyes snapped open at the sound, and she gasped.

_Creak._

There it was again.

It sounded like footsteps, coming closer.

Her hand began to slide out to where her gun sat, just feet away on the bedside table.

A shadow loomed over her, and just as she opened her mouth to scream, a gloved hand clamped a handkerchief over her lips.

She fought to breathe; the strong smell of chloroform filled her nostrils. She scratched at her assailants hands, drawing blood. The grip remained tight, however.

 The dark room began to swirl, and her eyelids fluttered as she fought to stay conscious. Her head was spinning, and she blacked out.

The attacker tore her bed sheet and using the strips, tied her ankles, and bound her wrists.

*********************************************************

Gil Grissom walked in, and surveyed his crew of cutting edge CSI's

Waiting in the break room were Nick Stokes, Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown. Nick and Warrick were playing with a mini-football, throwing it back and forth over the long table. Catherine, stylish in matching jacket and slacks, sat to one side, a _Cosmo open on her lap, steaming cup of coffee on the table next to her. _

 Nick, seeing the supervisor arrive, turned to him and flashed an innocent smile. Warrick, however, did not notice, and threw the ball back to Nick. It hit him on the side of the head.

Rubbing his head, he turned to the hysterical Warrick and jerked a thumb over his shoulder in Grissom's direction, mumbling something under his breath. Warrick turned an unpleasant shade of green, and stopped laughing abruptly.

Grissom managed a half smile, and scanned the room.

"We're one down." Grissom said, noting the absence of Sara. "Where's Sara?"

Nick and Warrick looked at each other, then back to Grissom. 

"We thought you were gonna tell us." Nick looked puzzled. 

"She didn't call in sick?"

"No." 

Catherine looked up from her _Cosmo_. "Shall I call her at home?" There was an edge to her tone. Sara wasn't the type to skip work, and she could tell Gil was thinking the same.

"Yeah." Grissom moved out of the doorway to let her pass. "Use my office."

She walked quickly up the corridor, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

She opened the door to Grissom's office. Various bugs sat in jars, lining the walls. A large red-kneed tarantula watched her from a glass case atop the filing cabinet. Catherine kept her distance.

She sat down in the huge leather office chair, which almost swallowed her slim figure.

Lifting the receiver, she hit the buttons in rapid succession. 

_Click._

It started to ring.

_Once._

_Twice._

_Three times._

The answer phone kicked in.

"Hey, Its Sara, you know what to do." _Beep_…

"Um, Sara, its Cath. Just wondering, you know, where you are. Call in, would you?" Catherine replaced the receiver. 

The feeling in her stomach had morphed into alarm. 

She wasn't here. She wasn't at home. 

She strode quickly back to Grissom and the others.

Grissom looked at her, and she shook her head.

Nick caught this silent exchange. 

"It's only half an hour since shift started. Maybe she's stuck in traffic."

Warrick concurred. "Yeah. The strip is murder this time of night -" He paused. "-No pun intended"

Grissom nodded, though he didn't believe it.

"Speaking of murder…Here's tonight's assignments."

He gave one slip to Catherine, Nick and Warrick the other. 

***************************************************************

Sara's limp body flopped into a hard wooden chair. Swift, now gloved hands worked to secure her there, removing the fabric ties and replacing them with rope. Still out cold from the chloroform, Sara was powerless to stop her captor. 

"Well, Mr Grissom. What a pretty little CSI we have here."

***************************************************************

Catherine knocked on Grissom's office door.

"Come in."

Catherine opened it and stuck her head through the gap.

"Just came to ask…"

"No. She hasn't called."

"Shift's nearly over!"

Catherine looked shocked, and then worry crept across her face.

Grissom could tell he was thinking now what she had been thinking all night.

"I'm going to stop by her house after the shift. Do you want to tag along?"

"Sure." If she was there, it would set her mind at ease, at least. And if she wasn't…

Grissom nodded to her, and she left, closing the door behind her.

He checked the clock. An hour to go. He dialled her house, for the sixth time that night. The same rings, the same message. He hung up.  Where was she? 

***************************************************************

Sara slowly opened her eyes. Groggy from the chloroform, she tried to lift her hands to her face, to rub away the sleep. They wouldn't move. She pulled on them again, harder this time. Still, they would not move. She looked down, and saw the ropes on her wrists.

Frantically she pulled at them. They wouldn't budge. 

She heard a footstep fall to her left. She stared into the fuzzy blackness, and could just make out a figure.

"Who's there?" Her voice was hoarse, and she started to cough.

There was no sound except her cough.

She caught her breath and spoke again, still not sure who she was talking to.

"Where am I?" The words wavered from fear.

Still, no answer. 

***************************************************************

They pulled up outside Sara's less than a half hour after the end of the shift.

"Her car's still here." Catherine didn't know whether that was a good sign, and from the look on Grissom's face, neither did he.

They walked up the steps and Grissom reached out to knock on the door.

It was slightly ajar.

Catherine's hand went to the gun, holstered at her hip. She glanced over her shoulder. "Not open enough to be seen from the street."

Grissom pushed open the door, but Catherine placed a hand on his arm.

"You have your gun, Gil?"

He shook his head. 

"Let me go first." She stepped past him and into the hall, gun barrel leading the way. He followed closely as she walked on.

Her foot crushed something, and she looked down. A lamp had been knocked to the floor, smashing into shards.

"Sara." She called out, hoping for an answer. There was none. "Sara!" She shouted louder.

Something told Grissom there was something very wrong here. "I'll check upstairs." He left Catherine, and raced up the stairs, two at a time.

"Gil!" What was he playing at? She followed him, afraid for his safety.

He found Sara's bedroom. The sight that met him chilled him to the very core.

Catherine looked over his shoulder, and gasped.

She pulled out her cell phone, and dialled 911, while Grissom just stood and scanned the mess.

The sheets of the bed were torn, and the duvet lay on the floor to one side. There was a small drop of blood on the pale carpet. Grissom hoped to god it wasn't Sara's.


	2. Lost Chapter 2

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Twenty minutes later Sara's house was swarming with cops. The dayshift CSI's had been called in to work the scene, but Grissom met them with fierce opposition.

"Step aside Gil, this is a dayshift case."

"The hell it is. One of our own goes missing, and you expect us not to work this case?"

 "The sheriff says-"

Anger flared in the usually cool stare. Grissom stepped up to the dayshift CSI's, and said through gritted teeth,

"This is _our case. Got that?"_

Catherine stepped up and placed a calming hand on Grissom's arm.

"…Gil…"

He looked at her and she shook her head. 

Conrad Ecklie, dayshift supervisor, smirked a little as he turned to his CSI's and began to brief them. 

Catherine pulled Grissom to one side. 

"There are other ways to get this case."

She pulled out her cell and talked fast. 

Grissom, only hearing one side of the conversation, became confused.

***************************************************************

Catherine said her goodbyes and hung up.

"Case is ours. We should probably go tell Ecklie the good news." 

She strode off to where the Dayshifts were standing.

"…How?" Grissom stared after her for a moment, then found his feet and hurried to join her.

***************************************************************

Grissom put in the call to Nick and Warrick, and soon they were standing ready on Sara's lawn, silver field kits in hand.

"Nick, Warrick, you take downstairs, Catherine and I will take upstairs." Grissom turned to each of them as he said their names. 

"Work hard and fast, people. We have to find her."

Nick muttered "We will.", Warrick nodded, and together they headed up to the house. Grissom turned to the nearby Detective Brass and nodded to the street.

Brass took the hint and began to tell Grissom what he and his officers had gathered from the surrounding neighbours, most of whom were watching the circus of the law from the opposite side of the street.

"No-one saw anything-" Grissom's expression now matched his own, frustrated and anxious. "- It's not a quiet neighbourhood, nothing out of the ordinary. It would help if we could pin down a time. All we have to go on is 'sometime after her shift yesterday, and when you and Cath found this place this morning'."

"We'll try." Grissom turned on his heels, and with Catherine in tow, he headed up to the house.

***************************************************************

They worked the room swiftly and thoroughly. Catherine examined the bed, looking for fibres, hairs, anything that didn't belong to the missing CSI. Grissom took the floor, examining the blood drop he had noticed earlier, and looking for more with Luminol. 

He was crouched in the corner next to Sara's tidy nightstand, searching for some clue to the events that had unfolded here sometime before they had arrived.

_Ring..._

Grissom and Catherine both jumped.

They stared at the phone, perched atop the bedside cabinet.

They heard Nick call up from downstairs, "Grissom!"

_Ring..._

Grissom called back, "Leave it, Nick!"

Catherine glanced across at him, looking to follow his lead. He returned her gaze for a moment, and then turned back to the phone.

_Ring..._

Grissom tentatively stepped over to the phone and lifted the receiver in a latex-gloved hand. He raised it to his ear, and spoke.

"Sara Sidle's Phone" Catherine thought she heard his voice waver a little, but dismissed it.

_"Mr Grissom…I was hoping you'd be there. Missing some…one?" A harsh male voice was taunting him._

Grissom swallowed hard, the voice setting him on edge, and he suddenly turned very pale.

"Who is this?" 

The tone of Grissom's voice caught Catherine off guard. Her pretty eyes widened, and she held her breath.

Grissom thought he heard the sound of an engine. 

"Do you have Sara? Where is she?" 

On hearing this, Catherine hit the 'speaker phone' button on the base unit, and suddenly the callous voice filled the room.

_"Call yourself an investigator, Mr Grissom? Tsk tsk, you'll have to work harder than that… I will answer one of your questions, though."_

Grissom heard the sound of footsteps on a concrete floor, and then the timid, frightened voice of Sara Sidle came on the other end.

"Grissom? You have to help me! I'm in a warehouse of some kind-"

The male voice cut her off.

_"Bitch!"_

Grissom heard the unmistakeable smack of hand on face, and he winced. Sara let out a little whimper. Catherine held a hand over her mouth in shock.

Jesus, she was in trouble.

The male voice regained its composure.

_"Well. It seems that you have an extra little clue. No matter. I wonder if you'll get the right person this time, Mr Grissom."_

With that, the line clicked off, and went dead.

Grissom looked at Catherine, but didn't really see her. His mind was racing. Warehouse…Engine…Concrete floor…

Catherine was shaking, and fought to stay on her feet.

"Grissom?" She caught the crack in her voice before it escaped and managed to control it.

"Cath, she's in trouble."

Catherine gravely nodded. "What do we do?"

"You go fill in Nick and Warrick, I'll find Brass. You guys finish up within the hour and meet me back at HQ. We need to find her, fast."

Grissom was at the door before Catherine called to him.

"What are you going to do?"

He turned around.

"I'm going to see Greg. Run this blood through the lab." 

She nodded, then added,

"Call me if anything prominent turns up."

With a tiny affirmative wave, he was gone.


	3. Lost Chapter 3

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The side of her face was stinging, and, she thought, probably bruising. She watched as her captor circled around her, her deep brown eyes, full of fear, following his every move. 

She listened as he finished his conversation with Grissom, and jumped as he clicked the cell-phone shut.

"Well, Sara, my sweet…" 

He leaned in close and stroked the cheek he did not strike. He was so close that their lips were almost touching, despite Sara's attempts to pull herself away. She could feel his sickly breath on her face as he spoke. 

"I wonder how long it will take the wonderful Mr Grissom to find his prize."

"What…What are you going to do to me?"

He snorted a laugh as he pulled back from her, and walked a little way to a counter nearby. 

"Why, sweetheart, I don't want you… You are merely-" 

He uncovered a shallow tray, and Sara saw the distinct glint of metal. He waved his hand across the line of scalpels and knives, wearing a smile that held no humour. 

"-Bait." 

Sara suddenly felt very cold

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They met up in the break-room less than an hour later. Grissom scanned the room. Nick, Warrick and Cath were all sat around the large table. Brass stood to one side, leaning on the work surface, even though a chair sat empty where Sara should have been. They all understood why he did not take this seat.

"What do we know?" Grissom asked.

Brass went first. "Pulled the phone records. The call was made from a pre-paid cell-phone, no way to trace it."

"Damn. Nick? Warrick?"

"Couple partials. Looks like the guy was wearing gloves till he reached Sara, then he took them off." Nick answered, and Warrick added "Ran them through AFIS. Came up nada." 

Grissom sighed. Partials rarely matched through AFIS. "Anything else?"

"Some good foot-prints." 

Grissom nodded. "Cath?"

"Couple unidentified hairs, not Sara's. DNA is unworkable."

"OK. So the only thing we have to go on is the phone call."

There were nods all around this time.

"Talk us through it, Gris."

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"Why me?" she said this thought out loud, but never meant to.

"You're his favourite…His little teacher's pet. He really does need to get better security." he said, almost casually. The man was clearly enjoying himself, showing off. Cocky.

The cockiness of her captor made her smile inwardly. These were the ones who made mistakes, believed they were smarter than the law. She considered this an advantage, and it calmed her.

"If his security was so lax, why not take him?" She was glad he hadn't, because Grissom would probably be dead by now. 

"Why, Sara, you miss my point. He took away the one I loved; now it's his turn."

It was true. She did miss his point.

"I don't understand."

"Come on sweetheart; use those skills you learned from the man himself."

Seeing the blank expression on her face, he explained it to her.

"He loves you."

In any other circumstance, she would have laughed.

"What? Grissom? No, I don't think…"

"He talks about you." 

She stared at him.

"In his sleep."

Sara shook her head in disbelief. _What?_

Sara choked a little, from shock. 

"In his sleep?" 

"Oh yes. I've heard him."

Her eyes widened, and she became curious.

 "What does he say?"

"Mostly how you're too young…"

Sara frowned.

"…for what?"

"Him. But he loves you none the less. And that, my sweet, is why you are here and he is not. But he will be. And then the fun will begin."


	4. Lost Chapter 4

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Grissom pulled a list of every warehouse in the Vegas area up onto the large interactive screen behind him. Next to that he put a map of them, each one highlighted in green.

Warrick followed his train of thought. "So, we're looking for a warehouse with a concrete floor, near some source of engine noise. Doesn't narrow it down much, Gris."

"He said 'I wonder if you'll get the right person this time'. Any ideas?"

Catherine answered this one. "Someone who believes you got the wrong person."

Nick, getting it, elaborated. "That's what I thought. Relative, maybe? Significant other?"

Brass chipped in "Anyone come to mind, Gil?"

Before Grissom could answer, his cell phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he eyed it warily.

Catherine's voice was a hushed whisper. "Answer it."

The caller ID was blank. He flicked it open, and held it to his ear, saying nothing.

_"Suddenly quiet, Mr Grissom?" The voice was back._

Grissom hit the speakerphone button, and placed the phone on the table.

Grissom raised his voice a little, and the other CSI's picked up the strain in it.

"Is Sara Ok?"

An engine roared overhead.

_"Oh yes, Mr Grissom. We've become the best of friends."_

Nick stood up abruptly, and ran a hand through his dark hair. Catherine placed a calming hand on his arm. He mouthed 'If he's touched her…'

She nodded, and mouthed back 'We'll get him.'

Warrick grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a note, and almost threw it to Grissom. 

It said simply 'I hear Dogs."

Grissom listened harder, and, sure enough, there was the sound of barking. 

_Like a kennels, Grissom thought. It was distant, but there._

"What do you want?"

_"Why don't you tell him, Sara?"_

A series of muffled cries told the assembled criminalists that he had gagged her.

_"Oh, I forgot. She isn't allowed to talk right now. We can't have another slip of the tongue, can we?"_

Grissom's fists balled, and he repeated himself.

"What do you want?"

_"Why, Mr Grissom, I want you to find me."_

The phone clicked off, the loud beep of a dead line filling the briefing room.

Grissom just stared at it, upset, frustrated, scared, but above all, angry.

"Grissom…" Catherine's voice cut into his thoughts, and he spun his head in her direction, so abruptly it made her jump.

"What do you want us to do?"

He snapped into CSI mode. "Search for kennels – did anyone else hear the engine? Sounded like an airplane, maybe a jet?"

Brass nodded. "Yeah, I heard it."

Suddenly he remembered.

"Greg." Grissom raced from the room, and charged down the hall to the lab rat's cage.

Entering the lab, Grissom skidded to a halt just behind the spiky-haired, self confessed geek.

Between breaths, Grissom said "Got anything?"

"Yeah, Gris. Good news is, blood's not Sara's."

Grissom visibly relaxed. _Thank Watson_.

"Any matches on CODIS?"

"That's the bad news. Not a thing."

"Thanks Greg."

Grissom turned and bolted back the way he came, anxious to tell the   
others the good – and bad – news.

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(A/N) If you aren't some weirdo science geek like me, Watson and Crick discovered DNA, by the way. Just one more interesting fact from my amazing collection of …3. 

No, that's it. Just 3. And I appear to have forgotten the others. 

…

Oh, wait! I have one! No, it's gone again. Never mind… 

You may want to move on to the next chapter. Quickly.

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	5. Lost Chapter 5

The captor removed the piece of cloth from her mouth, and she coughed. 

"I'm sorry, Sara, but I had to. You understand?"

She nodded. Being gagged, to her, seemed better than receiving another beating.

"Is he coming?" A part of her didn't want him to. A bigger part wanted him to burst in any moment and save her.

"It seems to be taking him longer than expected. But, we can find something to amuse ourselves with, can't we, sweetheart...."

Every inch of Sara's body tensed. "What?"

"Well, it seems we have something in common, at least. The wonderful - Mr Grissom."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why do we have him in common?" Sara's curious character was getting the better of her, even in this situation.

"I met him when he worked on a case, six months ago. Bodies were found, women who were raped and murdered. Grissom had a man arrested. I was arrested. I protested my innocence, but no-one believed me."

Sara felt a chill. He saw her shudder, but continued.

"Then, while I was in custody, the real killer struck again. He took my wife." He slammed his fist onto the counter, and the instruments jumped and clattered. 

Sara startled. 

"Grissom could have saved her. He could have saved her." 

***************************************************************

Grissom studied the files for past cases, systematically working through then discarding them, looking for something that would jog his memory. 

He paused now and then to remove his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose, out of tired worry and frustration.

He picked up the next file and began to read.

Michael Holt, convicted of four counts of rape and murder.

Grissom's mind whirred. He remembered this one. He jeopardised the conviction because of a wrongful arrest.

And then it dawned on him

_He got the wrong guy…_

He found the name of the man first arrested for this.

_Ian Brooks, Arrested before victim number four was attacked. Victim number four was… _

Grissom flipped to the last page of the file. Melanie Brooks, wife of Ian Brooks.

 _Oh god…_

Grissom threw the file onto the couch next to him and headed for the computer at is desk.

He searched the records of warehouses and storage facilities for any owned by Ian Brooks. A match.

Grissom grabbed his jacket and his keys and dashed to his car.

***************************************************************

Catherine strode into Grissom's office only to find it empty.

There were files strewn everywhere, and his computer had been left on.

The investigator in her said he'd left in a hurry.

She checked the computer, and her eyes took in the information before her.

"Brooks, Ian. Warehouse 51…" Her voice tailed off as she read the address. She went to the doorway and yelled.

"Nick, Warrick! Get in here! Now!"

Pulled from their posts at computers they were in front of her in an instant.

"I think we've found the warehouse." She gestured to the screen, and the guys crowded to look.

"Let's go." Nick was halfway down the hall in an instant.

"I'll call Brass from the car. Have him meet us there." Warrick was hot on his heels.

"Wait…" Catherine was still stood in the doorway of Grissom's office.

"Where's Grissom?"

Both Nick and Warrick turned to face her. Matching looks of confusion were on their faces.

Nick voiced his thoughts first "You don't think he went out there alone, do you?"

Catherine didn't doubt it for a moment. "Warrick, Call Brass now, and meet us in the car." She barked, before staring at a run down the corridor.

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	6. Lost Chapter 6

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Grissom parked his car just within sight of the warehouse, but not so close that his arrival could have been heralded by his car engine. 

He scoped out the area. In the distance he could see planes taking off and lading at what he presumed was macarren airport. Across the street from the warehouse was 'doggie day-care', which Grissom presumed was the source of the barking. 

He pulled his pistol from the holster at his hip and checked it over, before replacing it. He threw his jacket on, but did not button it, for ease of access to his weapon. He didn't want to go in there barrel first, as he was trained to. He wanted to keep the situation under control, and guns always seemed to make things worse.

He opened the door and slid out.

Skirting round the perimeter of the warehouse he checked the place out. There was a large metal screen door, and next to it a small wooden door. There were a couple of windows, but they were high up, way out of Grissom's reach. 

The wooden door looked like his means of entry, and he stepped up to it. Adrenaline was bubbling in his veins, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd been in this situation before, clearing a crime scene, but it had never, ever made him feel this nervous. 

Swallowing hard, he burst through the door, hand hovering above holstered pistol.

At first, his eyes made out little in the pitch blackness. The sun had disappeared from the Vegas sky, and the neon night lights did not reach into here. 

As his eyes adjusted, he made out a figure, obviously Sara, sat slumped in a wooden chair. The gag was back on, but Sara's eyes did all the screaming for her. A figure, clothed in black, stood behind her, facing Grissom.

"Sara!" Grissom started at a run towards her, but froze, as something caught his eye. Brooks had a knife at Sara's throat. 

"Not another step, Mr Grissom." 

Grissom nodded quickly.

"Your pistol…" Brooks hissed. "Slowly."

Grissom reached inside his jacket, and pulled it out. Holding it slack in his wrist, he placed it on the ground, and slid it over to Brooks. It slid underneath Sara's chair, and she wondered if he'd done that deliberately.

"Well, it took you longer than expected, but at least you got here in time to start the party."

"Mr Brooks, please. Just put the knife down." Grissom's tone was as soothing as he could manage. "It's me you want, right? You let Sara go, I'll do whatever-"

Brooks cut him off. Sara made a sharp noise through her gag as he pushed the knife in harder on her throat.

 "You know how he killed my wife? He used a knife, just like this one. He took it and he cut her throat. I could do that right now. You know I could."

"Mr Brooks-"

"She's what, Mr Grissom, Thirty two? My wife was Thirty. She'll always be Thirty."

In the silence they could hear each other breathe.

"Sara hasn't done anything wrong. I was the one who… It was my fault. You and I both know it's me you want in that chair. Let her go." 

Brooks slowly looked from Sara to Grissom. Then, in a twitch, he pulled back the knife. Grissom held his breath as he saw it glisten in the night.

Brooks grinned at Grissom, and his eyes flashed green.

"Come to me. Slowly. Walk it."

He wasn't sure if it was a trap, but Grissom did as he was ordered. He had no choice, realising that one of them was probably going to be dead by the end of this, and he knew he couldn't let that be Sara.

He stopped when he got within a few feet of Sara and Brooks. From here he could see her eyes, staring up at him, questioning him.

"It's Ok, Sara." He whispered.

"Shut up." Brooks snapped, turning the knife on Grissom now, pointing it at his Adam's apple. "And don't move."

Grissom now got a closer look at the knife, a lot closer than he'd wanted. Brooks was eyeing him suspiciously, expecting an attack at any moment. Grissom stood stock still, not showing any of the alarm that he felt. 

Sara sat stunned for a moment, the immediate danger over. Then, as her head started to kick back in, she realised something. Brooks had his back to her. This was her chance. She started to work once more at her bonds, silently. 

She pulled, and twisted, and wriggled, but nothing. She tried again. After a moment she felt the left rope give, a little. 

Or did she? It could have been her imagination. The adrenaline could be playing with her mind. 

She pulled again, and it gave a tiny bit more. Soon it was large enough for her to slide her arm out of.

Quickly she decided what to do.

Grissom caught Sara in the corner of his eye, but was careful to not give her away by looking straight at her. _What was she doing?_ He saw her free hand dart under the chair and grab the gun. 

She tried to aim it at Brooks, but she couldn't fire it with her left hand. She mouthed a curse, and tried to think through something to do.

She slid it up the outside of her shorts, hiding it was all she could think of to do. Grissom saw her do this, and it gave him an idea. 

This must have shown on his face somehow, because Brooks whirled around on Sara. "What are you doing?" The harshness of his gravely voice almost made Grissom jump.

Sara, now with both hands reattached to the chair, shook her head erratically. 

"You're up to something."

He pulled his penknife from his pocket, and palmed it. Taking a deep breath, he stepped between Sara and Brooks. 

As soon as he had moved, the knife was back at his throat. 

"What the hell is going on?"

Brooks was agitated, and to Grissom, that wasn't a good state for a man wielding a knife.

"Why don't you just kill me right here, right now?" Grissom questioned, not giving him a second to answer.

"I'll tell you why. Because you want to make me suffer. And I don't blame you."

He held his hands behind his back, and showed Sara the penknife. 

Her eyes widened. 

"But why make Sara suffer? Why not let her go? She didn't even work that case."

He flicked it and it landed softly in her lap. She swiftly let it fall between her thighs, and hid it from sight. 

He started to circle round, keeping Brooks' eyes on him.

"My wife is dead because of you!"

Soon he had Brooks exactly where he wanted him, and he didn't even know it. His back was once again to Sara, and she began to cut the rope on her right hand. Soon both her hands were free, then her feet.

Now, she pulled out the gun once more, and pointed it at Brooks' head, holding it with both hands. She stood, and slowly she pulled off the safety. It clicked.

The click resonated throughout the warehouse, so loud because of the silence. 

Brooks was fast for his size. He rounded on her, using the back of his hand to knock the gun from her grip. It skidded to a halt, and Grissom soon had it in his own hand.

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	7. Lost Chapter 7

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Sara found herself staring down the barrel of Grissom's gun. 

Brooks was using her as a human shield. He was twisting her wrist behind her back, so hard that she screamed out in pain.

"Brooks!" Grissom shouted, Sara's scream tearing at him. 

He could barely see him, hidden behind Sara. There was no way could he land a shot without hitting her. 

Brooks started to drag Sara towards the door, backing up, keeping Sara between Grissom and himself.

"It seems that the party's ending early. We'll have to reschedule." He reached the door. "See you soon, Mr Grissom. We'll play again." 

Gently he kissed Sara on the temple, and she winced.

"Goodbye." With that, he pushed Sara roughly to the floor, and was gone. 

Grissom holstered his weapon quickly, and raced over to her.

She looked up at him dejectedly. "What are you doing? Apprehension of the suspect, number one priority."

"Not to me. Not this time." He gently helped her to a sitting position, and then knelt beside her. "You ok?" 

"My wrist. I think he broke it." She began to shiver, mostly from the cold; sitting in her tiny shorts and vest that she had worn to bed, but also from the shock that was kicking in.

Grissom looked at her for a moment, and then began to take off his jacket. "Here." He placed it over her shoulders. "Let me see that wrist." 

She held it out to him, and he softly ran his fingers over it. She flinched at his touch. "I think you're right." 

"Grissom-" The tears started to roll down her rosy cheeks. "I think you saved my life." She whispered, softly, her breath creating little pools of mist in the dark.

"It's all ok now."

 Tenderly he wrapped her in his arms and rocked her, as she sobbed into his chest.

"It's all ok. I'm here." He let her calm down, and then he took her face in his hands, and looked deep into her bleary eyes. "You think you can walk out of here?"

She nodded. He placed her good arm over his shoulder, and slid his around her waist. Together, as one, they stood, and slowly they made their way to Grissom's car.

He helped her into the passenger side, her bare legs dangling out of the door, and moved around to the trunk to pull out some blankets. 

"Here." He wrapped them around her, swapping them for his jacket. "That better?"

She nodded, numb from the whole experience.

He could make out sirens in the distance, pulling closer.

"I think the cavalry has arrived." He gave her a tiny Grissom smile, but the shock had engulfed her now, and she didn't see. In the yellow light of the car interior, he could make out the massive bruise on Sara's face. 

_Probably broke her cheekbone, too, the son of a bitch. _

He cursed out loud, but even that didn't bring Sara out.

Soon the troops were upon them. Cath, Brass, Nick and Warrick were first on the scene. The sheriff, a swat team and an ambulance followed in a matter of seconds.

"Gil!" Cath sprinted over and hugged them, first Sara, then Grissom.

"Thank god! Are you both alright? Where's Brooks?"

Grissom looked over at Sara, who now had a swarm of EMT's hovering around her.

"I'm fine. He bailed. Sara needs to-"

"Grissom!" The angry call resonated through the street.

Catherine and Grissom turned to see Sheriff Brian Mobley striding purposefully towards them.

"What the hell did you think you were playing at?"

"I'm sorry, Brian?" Grissom gave him a condescending glare, and then moved to where Sara was being loaded into the ambulance.

"You deliberately disobeyed protocol!" Mobley was practically chasing him.

"Can you fire me later? I have something I need to do." Then he turned to the EMT who was about to close up the doors. "Is it ok if I join you?" The EMT looked to Sara, who nodded.

Grissom climbed in next to her, and gave Mobley a wave.

 The EMT closed the door, and patted the side.

As the engine started up, Sara turned to look at him. "You gonna get fired?"

Grissom shrugged. "Probably. But it doesn't matter. Are you ok?"

She smiled weakly, and nodded. 

***************************************************************

Catherine watched as the ambulance rolled away. 

Nick stepped up behind her, followed by Warrick. 

"Hey, Cath, are they ok?" Nick looked worried.

"Yeah, Nicky. They're gonna be fine. Grissom will probably get fired, but they're both ok."

Warrick was aghast. "Seriously? They're gonna fire Grissom? Man, that blows."

"Yeah." Cath looked at them in turn, first Warrick, and then Nick. Their expressions mirrored her own, a mixture of sadness and horror at the imminent loss of their supervisor. "How about we grab some food?"

"Yeah." Nick managed a smile.

"I'm in." Warrick nodded.

"Brass?" The three of them trooped over to the rumpled detective, whom they counted as one of their own. "You in for some food?"

"No, I think I'll hang about here. Help in the search for this guy."

"Come on, Jim. You've been working this solid. Take a break. They can handle it."

"Ok. Half an hour, tops." He rumpled his cheeks even more with a smile, and then it disappeared as he remembered something.

"The sheriff wants to fire Gil."

"We know."

"And I can't say he doesn't deserve it, but he's the best thing that's ever happened to this unit."

"Why, Jim, you going soft on us?" Cath couldn't stop herself.

Jim spluttered. "No. Really, I mean…" The grin on Cath's face made him feel beaten. He gave up. "The usual?"

So the four of them piled into two cars, Brass's Taurus and Cath's Tahoe, and headed for the diner.

***************************************************************

Once they'd reached the hospital, been unloaded and placed in a room by the triage nurse, the trauma was beginning to wear off. Sara was gradually returning to normality, though Grissom figured that the strange look in her eyes would stay for a while.

He sat in the corner while Sara lay, propped up, on the gurney. He watched her as she stared blankly at the wall. Suddenly she raised her hand to her cheek, jerkily, as if she was feeling something he couldn't see.

As she ran her fingers over her cheekbone, she saw him strike her, felt the sting, heard the sound of his hand on her skin. And then he did it again. And again. And again. 

Grissom was almost shaking her.

"Sara! Sara! Shh…"

She looked at him, bewildered and breathless.

 "You were screaming. What? What was it?"

She blinked a couple of times, fixing her empty stare on his ice blue eyes.

For a moment he held her gaze, and he understood.

The way her fingers danced on her cheek, the blank, lost look in her eyes.

She wasn't in that hospital room with him; she was still sitting, bound to that chair.

"Sara?" He tentatively spoke, his voice a soft whisper.

She was still staring at him, but she didn't answer.

"Come on, Sara."

The look in her eyes changed a little, the sound of his soft voice reaching her.

"Sara." There was more urgency in his tone now, as he realised she was coming back.

Gradually she returned to him, slowly but surely. After a few tense moments, she gave him a tiny smile, and sighed.

He visibly relaxed.

"You… Ok now?" Grissom couldn't think of anything else to say. Realising he still had his hands on her shoulders; he pulled them away, folding them across his chest.

Sara nodded.

"Can I get you anything? Glass of water, or some food, maybe?

She shook her head. "I'll be ok."

He nodded, and returned to his chair, which seemed to be further away than ever.

She lay down on the gurney, and sleep overcame her like a blow to the head.

***************************************************************

Soon her gentle snores reached Grissom.

Standing, he stretched.

Walking over to her, he fought with the urge to climb up on the bed beside her, and wrap her in his arms. 

She was curled up, foetal like, with her good arm folded across her chest, and her broken one splayed out, resting away from her body.

Grissom took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as he often did in times of frustration.

Replacing them he sighed.

Reaching for the blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed, he pulled it up over her, fearing that the little warmth that she seemed to have regained would be lost.

He did this more for his sake than for hers. 

She shifted slightly as the blanket touched her skin, but did not wake.

Now that she was sleeping, he felt able to pull his chair up, close to her bed. He did so, careful to make no sound.

From his new post, he watched over her.

He watched her breathe, he watched her eyelids flutter ever so slightly, watched her react to her subconscious.

He had often found her asleep in the lab, most often slumped over her computer. 

He often hovered, just for a moment, allowing himself the lingering looks that he could never let her see him take.

***************************************************************

Catherine, Brass, Nick and Warrick munched half-heartedly on their first proper meal in a while. They ate in melancholy silence, each understanding why the others didn't speak. Everyone's mind was somewhere else.

Abruptly, Nick broke the silence.

"What will he _do?" He obviously couldn't see Grissom anywhere but in the lab, head in a microscope._

Cath looked at him, and let out a deep, smooth sigh. "If he looses his job? I don't know."

"Probably become a bug farmer or something…" Brass almost smiled, attempting to lighten their spirits. Truth was, that sounded exactly like Gil Grissom, Entomologist extraordinaire.

"Was Sara Ok? That guy… He didn't… do anything to her, did he?" He looked to Cath, anxiety marring his features.

"No, Nick. No. She's fine. He was just using her as… Bait, I suppose."

Brass looked at Warrick. "Hey, Rick, you ok?"

"Yeah." He paused for a moment, thinking something through. "Who is going to process Sara?"

Cath tilted her head, and looked at him, puzzled. "One of the day shifts, I guess."

 "Yeah. And I bet I know who." Warrick shook his head, and Nick jumped on his train of thought.

"Ecklie. Woah, if Grissom's there…"

Cath joined them. "He will not be happy. He'll probably give Mobley another reason to fire his ass." She stood, tossing a few bills on the table. 

"You going over there?"

"Yeah. Only hope I can beat Ecklie. Is it ok to take the Tahoe, Nick?"

"Sure. Brass can give me a ride, can't you?"

"No problem." Brass nodded. He turned to Cath, who was already half way to the door, "Call it in."

"Will do." And she was gone.


	8. Lost Chapter 8

He must have been watching her for a while - though it only seemed like a few minutes – when there was a knock at the door. It was purposeful, but also held some compassion for the inhabitants of the room.

 Grissom moved to open the door, and then paused.

What if it was Brooks? It wouldn't be hard for him to find them, and he had seemed pretty sure that they would meet again. 

Grissom shook himself. For one, Brooks wouldn't be stupid enough to walk into the middle of a busy ER, two, Vega was just outside, and, three, he probably wouldn't knock.

There was something about Sara in danger that made him think completely irrationally. In fact, there was something about Sara in general that made him think like that.

He opened the door, and his whole body tensed. 

"Grissom." Ecklie said, with a greasy smile. He moved to step forward, but found that Grissom was barring his way, his form filling the doorway, bristling with anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

The smile disappeared from Ecklie's face, to be replaced by a hash glare.

"I'm here to process the evidence. At the moment, that would be Sara."

"Why would dispatch send you? It's not your case!"

"It's not yours either, any more. The word is, you're on your way out. The sheriff asked me to come down."

Grissom was positively vibrating with rage.

"Then I say this not as a CSI but as Sara's friend. You aren't touching her, you incompetent jerk. Get out of here."

Ecklie was clearly enjoying making Grissom this uncomfortable.

"Hey, come now Gil. You wouldn't want to spend your last few hours as a CSI in a fight with another, better CSI, would you? You could be finding something better to do, like cleaning out your office…"

Sara's ears tuned in before her eyes were open. Grissom sounded furious.

"I haven't been fired yet, Ecklie. I think you should get out of here before I do something you'll regret. You aren't coming anywhere near her. Got it?"

He slammed the door with a violent crash. Running his hand through his silvering hair in frustration, he turned.

He was met by Sara, sitting up, blinking, confused. His fury dissipated, leaving just happiness and relief at seeing her.

He jumped. "Oh, hey. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. How're you feeling?"

"Better, I guess. What was Ecklie doing here?"

"He was sent to process you… How's your arm?"

"Still hurts. I'm glad you made - "

There was a knock at the door. Grissom felt his rage return.

"Get lost, you ass- "

"Gil?" Cath's voice floated through the door.

He opened it quickly, and greeted her with an apologetic half smile. "Sorry. I thought you were - "

"Ecklie? I passed him in the hall. He didn't look happy." She smiled. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm ok."

Sara piped up from her spot on the gurney.

"Hey Cath."

"Hey, Sara!" Cath moved over to the chair formerly occupied by Grissom and flopped down. "It's good to see you."

"You too. Have they..."

"…Found him? Not yet. They will. In the mean time, where are you gonna stay?"

"I can't go home. I just… Can't." 

Grissom looked over at her, and opened his mouth to speak.

Cath cut him off.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be at home either, Gil. Both of you should come stay with me."

Grissom walked over to the two ladies, and looked for a place to sit. The only free spot was the foot of Sara's bed. Being this close to her while she was awake made him feel uneasy, somehow.

"We can't do that. They'll put us up in a hotel or something."

"Sure you can. I've got plenty of room."

Sara felt a hotel would be best. She would have to find a new place soon, but for tonight, a hotel would do. "We can't put you in danger like that. And Lindsey, too. Its better we go to a hotel." 

This hadn't occurred to Cath. She looked to Grissom. He nodded. "She's right. And we'll be ok. They'll put an officer outside the door, and everything."

"Ok then. But call me if you need anything. Anytime."

Sara nodded. 

Cath began to snap on her latex gloves, and Grissom took this as his cue to leave.

"I'll, uh, go get a coffee. You want anything, Sara?"

"Soda?"

"Sure. Cath?"

"No, I'm fine thanks."

"I won't be long."

He moved to the door, and then turned back. He looked over to Sara, about to say how glad he was that she was ok, but the words wouldn't come. 

All he could manage was -  "You'll be ok?" 

She nodded yes, and allowed her eyes to connect with his. His look almost caused her to gasp. That blue stare was letting slip his feelings, and Sara could read them like a book. She looked away, down at a particularly fascinating spot on the blanket. Brooks had been telling the truth. She looked up once more, but he was gone.

"You ready?"

Catherine spoke softly, and Sara almost jumped. She had forgotten she was there, the intimacy in Grissom's look made her feel like there was just the two of them in the world.

"Yeah."

***************************************************************

They talked little whilst Cath collected the evidence. When she was done, a doctor came to treat Sara. Cath left them alone, eager to give Sara some privacy. She agreed to wait outside the door till Grissom returned, then she would have to take the evidence back to CSI. 

She found a seat within sight of the door, and Grissom appeared within a few minutes. He almost walked straight past her, his focus so complete.

"Grissom!" She called out, stopping him just before he reached the door of Sara's room. "The doctor is with her at the moment."

"Oh." He looked down at the soda in his hand. "I'll keep it for her." He took up the seat next to Cath.

"You look exhausted." 

"I'm ok."

"Have you found a hotel room yet?"

He nodded "Vega says they'll take us there once Sara gets the all clear. How long has the doctor been in there?" He shifted slightly so that he could see the door.

"Easy, Grissom. She's ok." She touched his arm comfortingly. He turned to her and nodded. 

"I hope so. Have you heard anything? Have they found him yet?"

She checked her watch. "Brass said he was going back after he'd had something to eat. I could see if he's got any news."

Grissom nodded.

Cath smiled. "See a pay-phone on your travels?"

"There's one down the hall."

"Thanks. I'll be right back."

***************************************************************


	9. Lost Chapter 9

An hour later, Grissom and Sara were in the back of Vega's Taurus, headed to their hotel. It wasn't anything flashy, a little place off the strip, but Grissom figured that the harder it was to find, the safer they were. 

Brooks was still at large, but he was in their sights. 

Cath had explained that they had an address, and they were staking the place out.

 She would call when she had more news.

He looked across at Sara, the early morning Vegas sun streaming onto her face. Her arm was plastered, in a sling. 

She stared out of the window, not realising he was watching her. He sighed. The doctor said she'd be in plaster for about six weeks, and this meant she would have to be confined to lab work.

 Grissom was actually quite happy about this. 

She would be safe, but she wouldn't see it like that. 

She hated being confined, almost as much as he did.

She glanced across at him, and Grissom smiled at her. She smiled half-heartedly back, and returned to staring out of the window. 

She felt something brush her against her fingers, and it made her jump. Turning, she looked down at her hand. Grissom's was resting next to hers, almost touching. She felt her heart begin to beat that little bit faster. Neither of them dared to close that inch between them. It seemed like the story of their lives. 

She couldn't deal with this right now, her mind was still incommunicado, her senses AWOL. She pulled her hand away, and used it to wrap her borrowed jacket around her, and even though the air conditioning was circulating warm air around the car, she shivered a little. 

Grissom, unaware that they were so close, took her gesture as one of cold. 

"Hey, Sara? Are you cold?" He instinctively reached out to touch her face, but stopped himself. Instead he touched the head rest behind her.

"No."

"You sure?"

"I just want to get some sleep." She snapped at him.

Grissom looked at her, and she saw hurt in his eyes. He spoke quietly. 

"Oh. Well, it looks like we're here."

Vega swung the wheel left, and pulled into the hotel parking lot. 

He turned to them, "I want you both to walk in front of me, and quickly."

They nodded. The threat that Brooks posed was very real for both of them.

***************************************************************

They got to their room without incident. Vega cleared the room before they were allowed to enter. The receptionist said that only Cath had been inside, but he didn't want to take any chances. 

They stepped inside, first Sara, then Grissom. She took in her surroundings. Tasteful walls, plush drapes, deep pile carpet, king size bed… She paused, and did a double take. Just the one, king size, bed. 

She looked across to Grissom, who appeared to be doing the same. Well, she thought. At least it wasn't a set up. Well, not on Grissom's part.

Grissom turned to ask Vega if this was the right room, but he was already gone, posted outside the door for their protection.

She walked up to the bed, and found two piles of clothes. Each had a small bag of toiletries on the top, cunningly labelled _Sara_ and _Grissom._

"Gris…" She felt herself use her pet name for him, without thinking. "Cath must have left these." She fingered the piece of paper.

"Do you want me to see if I can get us another room?" He paused, and took a deep breath. "One with, uh, two beds?"

"This one is fine." The incredulous look on his face almost made her smile. Truth was, she just wanted to get some sleep. The bed was large enough for both of them to share, without being too close.

"Are you sure?"

She was gone, headed into the bathroom. It sparkled, unlike some hotel bathrooms she had visited. She just wanted a bath, and to sleep.

"Are you gonna take a bath?"

She whirled around, letting out a little yelp of fear. 

Grissom realised what he had done. "Sara, I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

She placed her hand on her chest, and strained to hear him over the thump-thump-thump of her heart in her ears. "You made me jump, is all." 

He reached out and held her elbow, and it wasn't till then that she realised she was shaking. He put the toilet lid down, and sat her on it. 

"I shouldn't have. Would you like some water?"

"Please." Sara couldn't believe herself. She was safe, no-one was going to reach her here, but she was still terrified.

He rinsed a glass that was beside the bathroom sink, and filled it.

He knelt in front of her, holding out the glass.

 "It's ok to be scared. After what you've been through… Here." 

It was as if he had read her thoughts. She sat stunned for a moment, then felt a solitary tear roll down her cheek. She took the glass from him, and sipped. 

He brushed the tear from her skin, impulsively. This contact made her flinch, it was so unexpected. She stared at him, her eyes dark, shiny with unshed tears, and he withdrew, quickly. "Sorry." He mumbled. Before she could say anything, he stood. 

"Did you want me to run you a bath?"

She was glad of the quick change of subject. She gained control of herself, with difficulty.

She lifted her plastered arm. "I can't get this wet."

"I'll call room service; have them send up a plastic bag. We can wrap it in that." Grissom was all business, annoyed that he had let himself slip so obviously.

She nodded. "Okay."

At the raspy, almost whisper of her voice he softened. "Are you hungry? I could order some food at the same time."

Sara really wasn't, but she had a feeling Grissom was going to make her eat something.

"If you like." She felt drained, the adrenaline her fright had sent coursing through her veins was depleted. She could probably fall asleep right there, perched on the toilet seat. "I might just get some sleep."

"I think that would be best." He held out his hand, to help her up. She regarded it for a moment, then took it. He escorted her to the bed, resisting the urge to steer her with a hand on the small of her back.

She sat down on the bed, between the piles of clothes. Grissom took his and placed it on a nearby chair, leaving hers at her side.

She peeled off her coat, revealing a small t-shirt, and a pair of black jeans. Cath kept a change of clothes in her car, and gladly lent them to Sara. They didn't fit her well, as she was taller than Cath, but she was grateful.

He put in the call to room service, also ordering some pasta and salad. He knew she was a vegetarian, had been since they had stayed up all night with that pig. For himself he ordered some whole bran and some fruit. Hanging up the phone, he turned to look at her.

"Um, Grissom?" She stared pointedly at him, and he understood her immediately. 

"I'll, um, be in the bathroom." He left her alone, closing the door behind himself. 

***************************************************************

Grissom stood for a moment, in the centre of the small room. How long should he give her? Normally if she had to change for work, it took her less than fifteen minutes. He would give her a half hour. 

Quite what he would do for half an hour, in the bathroom, alone, puzzled him. 

He hadn't slept in a long time, but that wasn't unusual, and he wasn't going to fall asleep in the bathroom. 

So all that he could do was contemplate the fact that he was probably out of a job, and the fact that he had almost lost the one thing he didn't know he needed so much. How did Brooks – his fist clenched involuntarily as he thought of him – know Sara was his weakness, before even he did? He perched on the edge of the bath, and removed his glasses. 

As he rubbed his eyes, he realised he had a problem. Had Brooks told her the reason he had chosen her? Probably. And she was most likely disgusted with him. That would explain her behaviour. As her shock was dissipating, other feelings would begin to surface. 

At least she was Ok.


	10. Lost Chapter 10

She pulled the T-shirt over her head, and pulled on the tracksuit bottoms. It took some time and effort, but she did it without too much pain.

She flopped backwards onto the bed, sending a wave across the duvet. She sighed deeply.

"Grissom. I'm done." 

He opened the door gingerly, carefully checking she was indeed dressed before stepping fully into the room.

"Are you alright?" he looked across at her, sprawled over the bed, but looking almost content.

"Yeah."

He walked over, and looked down at her. Her eyelids were half closed, sleep and comfort finally being allowed to take over. 

He swallowed hard as the light caught her bruised cheekbone, and reaching down, he gently lifted her legs onto the bed. In response, she turned on her side and inched up the bed, in search of the pillow. Once her head contacted it, she was still.

There was a light knock at the door. Vega's voice reached Grissom. "Gil, There's a room service guy here."

Grissom opened the door, and placed a finger to his lips.

"She's asleep. Thanks." He whispered, as he took the bag and food from the uniformed room service staff. 

"Everything alright?" Vega glanced over Grissom's shoulder to the sleeping Sara.

"It will be."

He closed the door, and placed the food on the side. 

He changed into a plain white T shirt and dark shorts, and climbed onto the bed. Sara was sleeping soundly, on top of the duvet, so he couldn't cover her up. He didn't think it mattered. The room was warm and cosy. He lay on his side, facing her back.

As the sleep came, and his eyelids drooped and finally closed, he was left with the comforting thought that Sara was only a foot away, for tonight. Tomorrow…

Who knew?

***************************************************************

Grissom was roused by the sound of running water. He sat up, and rubbed his eyes.

He glanced across to the other side of the bed. Sara wasn't there. He checked his watch. It was almost four in the afternoon. How long had she been awake?

He heaved himself up off the bed, and padded across to the bathroom door. Knocking softly, he called out. "Sara?"

***************************************************************

She was sitting on the edge of the bath, watching it fill slowly. 

At the sound of his knock, she almost toppled in.

"Sara?" His voice was silken, familiar.

"Yes." She answered quietly.

"Everything alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Ok."

She heard him leave the door, probably to call Cath and get some news. Perhaps they had caught him. Perhaps. 

She didn't allow herself too much hope. It would be tough to find him.

She poured a little of the hotel bubble bath into the water and watched as the bubbles rose. 

She pulled her t-shirt over her head, and lowered her pants to the floor.

***************************************************************

He hit speed dial 2 on his cell, and heard her pick up on the second ring. "Willows."

"Catherine? It's Gil. Any news?"

He became suddenly on edge. 

"We got him." She said simply. "He's in custody." 

"You're sure it's him?"

"DNA from Sara's room is a match."

"We got him." Grissom mimicked Cath's earlier words, willing them to sink in.

"We did. Tell Sara."

"I will." He paused for a moment.

"Gil?"

"Good job, Cath. Good job. Tell Nicky and Warrick. You did good."

He hung up quickly, making it impossible for Cath to thank him for this comment. He didn't do well with thanks. 

"Sara?" He half shouted to her.

"Yes?"

"They got him."

She stared at the bathroom door, wishing she could see him say those words.

Her voice broke with relief. "Say it again." 

He stepped as close as he could to the door, and in hushed, almost sacred tones, he repeated those wonderful words.

"They got him."

Carefully, she pulled herself out of the bath. Then, throwing on the plain gown that hung on the door, she pulled open the door. 

The force with which the door opened made Grissom jump backwards. Sara was standing there, dripping wet, obviously trying to hold back the tears. 

The plastic bag was taped haphazardly around her wrist, and looked out of place. She hadn't tied the belt, most likely because she couldn't, Grissom thought. She was holding it around her with her good hand.

"He was picked up at McCarran."

"You're sure it's him?" She was looking at him with those eyes, and he had to resist the urge to hold her.

"DNA is a match."

Sara stepped close to him. "Thank you."

All too aware of the proximity of her, Grissom looked for some means of escape. Even he didn't have this much willpower.

"Here. Let me get that for you." He reached down and tied the belt of the robe in a bow. "There."

"Thanks." She didn't move away from him, as he'd expected.

"Sara… I'm sorry." He had wanted to say this, say how bad he felt, how guilty, since he saw her lying on that hospital bed. "This… all this is my fault."

Sara frowned. "Grissom… This isn't anyone's fault. And I don't blame you. I blame him."

Despite all his better angels shouting in his ears, he wrapped his arms around her. "If anything had happened to you… I don't think I'd have been able to forgive myself."

She buried her face in his neck. He smelled sweet. "I'm Ok."

There was a knock at the door. They jumped apart, more out of shock than anything else. 

Grissom went over to open the door. Vega and Brass were standing on the other side.

"We got him." Brass was smiling, though he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Grissom didn't let on that he'd already heard this. He pulled a surprised Brass into a manly hug, slapping him on the back. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Grissom stepped back to allow Brass and Vega into the room.

"Hey, Sara." Brass walked over to her and placed a hand on her arm. "How're you doing?" 

"Better." She folded her arms as best she could, acutely aware that she was standing in just a dressing gown in a room with her colleagues. "Thanks, Jim. I'm grateful for all you've done." She leant forward and pecked him on the cheek. She smiled as Brass began to turn pink. Grissom felt a pang of jealousy.

"If its ok, I'm gonna go get dressed." She gathered up her clothes as best she could and padded into the bathroom.

After they had all watched her go, Grissom turned to a beetroot coloured Brass. "What happens now? Can we go home?" 

"Sara's place is still a mess. But it should be Ok. There's no way this guy is making bail." Brass nodded to Vega. "Vega'll give you a ride, right?"

Vega nodded. "Sure."

"Thanks, Vega." Grissom looked over at the guy who had been sitting outside the room to keep them safe. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

**************************************************************

"Sara?" Grissom looked across at her from his side of the car. She certainly looked much more at ease than the last time they were in this position. "… It's probably better if you aren't alone yet."

She looked at him with raised eyebrows, unsure of what that phrase was supposed to imply.

"Do you want to drop me at Cath's?" 

Grissom paused. He didn't think he could handle her being so far away from him just yet. He had a spare room…

Actually, no, he thought. She'd be happier at Cath's. "Ok, Yeah." 

He leant forward to the driver. "Vega? Can you drop Sara at Cath's?"

"Sure. She doesn't live too far from here…"

"Thanks." Grissom turned back to Sara. "Is that ok?"

"Yeah."

Sara nodded, waiting for the feeling that Grissom didn't want to be around her to subside. He could turn on a dime, this guy. Not an hour ago, he was holding her close, now she was being pushed away. 

Grissom pulled out his cell, and flicked it open. Sara frowned at him slightly. Seeing her confusion, he explained.

"I should call ahead, check its Ok."

"Oh. Yeah, that would probably be polite…" She smiled. He smiled back at her, that little half smile that he didn't use anymore. She found she had missed it.


	11. Lost Chapter 11

**************************************************************

"Willows…" Cath sounded exhausted. Grissom cursed himself for waking her. Of course she'd be asleep.

"Hey Cath… It's Grissom."

"Grissom." Cath blinked a couple of times, but still everything seemed cloaked in blurriness. "Is everything Ok?" She stifled a yawn. 

"Fine. I was just wondering if… uh… Did I wake you?"

Cath paused… Ok, It wasn't just the fact that she was half asleep that made that question odd. 

"You called me to ask me if you woke me …by calling me…"

"No, actually. I was being polite."

"Grissom." She sighed heavily. "What is it?" 

She was beginning to sound aggravated now… Grissom looked across to Sara, who was watching Grissom getting more flustered as the conversation continued.

 She was amused. He could tell by the way she was resting her head on her palm and watching him. 

"Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. Get some sleep."

"Grissom-"

"Sorry I woke you, Cath. Sweet dreams."

He hung up, and shook his head.

"I woke her up."

Sara stared at him, perplexed, and nodded. "I gathered."

Grissom waited for more, but she didn't continue. He started again. "I thought it was probably better to let her sleep."

 "Where am I supposed to go?" She checked herself. Cath deserved a peaceful sleep. After all, she owed her her current safety. "I mean -"

He looked back to her, ignoring her snappy attitude. "It looks like you'll have to stay with me."

Sara stared at him, aware that he could probably see her tonsils; her mouth was so wide open.

"Are you sure?" She tried not to sound as surprised as she felt. 

Actually, I'd prefer it, Grissom wanted to say, but he couldn't. He didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already felt.

A meek "Of course I'm sure." was all that he could manage.

"'Cos I could always call Nick…" She wasn't searching for an escape herself, but wanted to let him know he had one. She was happy that he was finally allowing her back into his life, even if it took mortal danger to point him in the right direction.

He thought for a moment. 

"I'd rather not anger another CSI by breaking into their beauty sleep."

He hoped she couldn't see that he was covering the real reason. He definitely didn't want her to stay with one of their male colleagues. 

Unless it was him, of course. 

He shook his head, partly in response to her suggestion, but mostly in response to his desire to keep her all to himself. She wasn't his to keep.

Sara smiled at the thought of Nick being involved in anything concerning beauty. This thought started a replay of a memory that she cherished. 

She could remember every moment of that conversation beside the ice, every word and every breath. She smiled broadly now, her eyes sparkling. 

"Ok."

"Hey, Vega? Change of plans. Can we go straight to my place?"

"Sure thing, Grissom."

**************************************************************

Grissom lead the way up the steps to his town house, with Sara trailing behind. 

As he slid his key into the lock, he suddenly felt his heart jump into his throat. She hadn't been inside his home since the strip strangler case, and she'd never been there outside of work. This was strange for him. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door, revealing his home to her. 

She stepped past him, inside, stopping just in front of him.

"Make yourself at home." His voice seemed close. In fact, he was almost talking in her ear; she had stopped so close to him. She knew he was watching her, waiting for her response to his place. 

"Thanks." She walked into Grissom's living room, out of his eye line.

"Want some coffee?"

"Sure." She was investigating his space, something which she had longed to do properly since they met. It struck her that she knew too little about her commander and chief. 

She glanced over his CD collection, noting the similarities to hers, with a half-smile.

 She moved on to his books, lining the two bookcases that towered over her. 

There were the ones she expected – Shakespeare, Poe, – but in amongst these there were a few that surprised her. Some modern stuff, some that were on her own bookshelf. What surprised her most, however, was that her favourite was there, 'Pride and Prejudice.' She smiled. 

The bottom two shelves of the bookcases were filled with science journals, forensics magazines, and the like. She scanned them briefly, till one jumped out at her.

'Applied Psycho-Dynamics in Forensic Science.' Huh. She thought he'd been making that up. Sighing, she moved over to sit on his big leather couch. 

She placed her cast forearm on her lap, and sank into the big plump cushions. 

She frowned as she noted a small thundering, and jumped, and squeaked a little as something landed on the couch beside her. She soon realised, however, that the thing meant no harm. In fact, it looked almost as surprised as she did.

"Hey there."

The small ebony cat eyed her suspiciously; obviously it had expected to find Grissom in her place. 

"It's ok…" She held out her un-cast hand toward it, extending her long fingers. It backed up a few paces, but extended its nose to meet the tip of her forefinger. "There, see? I'm not going to hurt you…"

The cat seemed to understand, as it nuzzled along her finger and allowed her to rub its ear. Still wary, it edged closer to her, as she stroked the full length of its back.

She lifted her cast off her lap, and the cat pawed its way on, purring like a subway train. It was kind of comforting. The warmth of it as it curled up on her lap, the gentle rise and fall, the vibration in its chest. Utter contentment.

Grissom came in, and handed Sara her coffee. 

He caught sight of the ball of fur on her lap.

"Get down, Curio." He laughed nervously. "Sara doesn't want you lying all over her. Come on now." He bent to usher the cat away.

The cat raised sleepy eyes in Grissom's direction. It bestowed upon him a look of superiority, and then lowered its head again.

"No, leave it be." She took a sip of her coffee, and he sat next to her.

"Curio…" Sara looked at Grissom questioningly. 

He turned sheepish. "It has two meanings. Firstly, I named her 'Curiosity', but then I shortened it to 'Curio', which means treasure."

Sara looked down at the black blob on her lap, and introduced herself. "Curio. Hi. I'm Sara." She laughed, and Grissom joined her.

Sara turned to look at him, a slight look of hurt in her eyes.

"How did I not know you had a cat?"

Grissom paused. "Because I never told you."

"You never tell me things, anymore."

He half smiled.

"You never ask me, anymore."

**************************************************************

Grissom is a cat person, right?


	12. Lost Chapter 12

A/N: Lots of lovely bagels to LS for helping me out with this… Have a topping of your choice, too. :D

**************************************************************

They sat together on the couch for a while, talking about Curio. The cat herself seemed to be ignoring them. Sara was stroking her absentmindedly; as she listened to Grissom speak. His voice was soothing, like Curio's purr, and she felt totally at home.

"… and I found her there."

"In a skip?" Sara was shocked. This bright little thing looked like she had never wanted for anything.

"Inside a plastic bag, out behind the CSI Headquarters." Grissom gently rubbed Curio's ear. "She was starving and cold, and she was so thin." He gazed at Sara with deep grey-blue eyes. "It was close. If I hadn't heard her mewing..."

Sara was seeing Grissom in a new way. In his home he was opening up to her, and it seemed he didn't even realise it. The guardedness was gone, there was only the man himself sitting in front of her. This is what she had always wanted from him. She wanted him to let her in, to let her get close.

She hesitated. Was it all too late? She had tried to move on from the love she carried with her, that love that had blistered and hurt her, and she had left him behind… hadn't she?

She placed these thoughts to the back of her mind. She was still feeling off balance, though a little better for being at the new Grissom's side. She couldn't explain why, but it made her feel comfortable, like she belonged there.

 "I bet she's grateful."

"She's happy. That's what counts."

"Yes."

Grissom rose, and picked up Sara's empty coffee cup from the table.

"More coffee?"

Sara paused. The coffee wasn't doing anything to help her.

"…Have you got anything…stronger?"

Grissom raised an eyebrow at her. "Aren't you on painkillers?"

"I didn't take them." At the concerned look on his face, she added "It's ok, it doesn't hurt. See?" She lifted her plastered arm as if to prove it.

"Sara…" His voice was hard and reproachful.

"Grissom…" She mimicked him, giving him just a glimpse of the old Sara, making him smile. 

"I don't think you should be drinking." He shook his head.

"Really? I think what I need is a drink. I am a grown woman, Grissom, I am allowed."

Her eyes pleaded with him to say yes, and he gave in, partly to avoid an argument, partly because it would make her happy. This was a habit he would have to get rid of. 

"Ok then. One drink. I should have something around here. Depends whether or not Cath drank it all…" Sara frowned slightly, but he didn't seem to notice, padding off into the kitchen once more. 

For a moment he fished about under the breakfast bar and soon he turned up half a bottle of vodka and two glasses. He poured a little vodka into each glass, and began to walk towards the lounge once more. Passing his freezer, he paused for a moment. Did he have anything for her to eat?

 He placed the glasses on the countertop and pulled it open. 

He rummaged for a moment and then pulled out a small box.

"…Microwave for 10 minutes." He read, quietly. Taking off the wrapping, he did as instructed.

"Want anything with it? I have some orange juice…" He called to Sara.

"Fine." She absently called back. Her mind was far away, on thoughts of other things. He could have offered her cyanide, and she wouldn't have refused it.

How often was Cath here?

She involuntarily felt a twinge of jealousy, somewhere in a long forgotten place.

Back when she loved him, she had felt it a hundred times a day. 

When he had chosen to work with Warrick or Nick, it was bad. 

It was worst, however, when he chose to work with Cath. 

                                          What was she doing, feeling it again?

"Here you go." She was pulled out of her daydream by Grissom planting the glasses on the table in front of her, followed by a carton of orange juice.

"Thanks." She reached out to pour some juice, unscrewing the lid rather nimbly with one hand. Grissom was impressed. 

"You adapt quickly…" 

She looked over to him, and saw that it was a genuine compliment. She smiled. "Always do."

**************************************************************

She sipped her drink, wincing slightly at the alcoholic kick it held. She blinked slowly, the exhaustion and stress still weighing heavily on her shoulders. 

She felt totally drained. 

After sleeping for only a couple of hours at the hotel, she had then lain awake in the soft darkness, flinching at every tiny sound, thinking about things that she couldn't quite remember now. 

For a time, she had watched Grissom as he slept, the soft breath passing through his full lips, barely making a sound. This memory made her the most content, for reasons she didn't fully understand, only knowing that she could have watched him sleep forever. It was when he began to stir that she had dived for the sanctuary of the bathroom. 

Now, she realised that as she sat on the couch with him just a few feet away, that nothing could ever be the same again. The last few days had turned her world upside down, and she didn't know if she liked the way it had become. 

Suddenly a loud beeping interrupted her thoughts and she jumped violently, spilling her drink. Curio, startled by her sudden movements, dashed from Sara's lap in a flurry of claws and fur.

"Shit." She muttered, her heart pounding in her ears, breath fluttering in her throat. Placing her glass down on the table, she began to franticly wipe her trousers with her hand, cursing under her breath. She was mad at the fact she had jumped at all, not that she had spilled her drink. 

"Sara?" Grissom edged along the couch towards her, just slightly. "You ok? It's just some food I put in the microwave." He gently reached out, placing a hand on her back to calm her. She startled at this unexpected touch. 

"Hey, it's ok." 

Ignoring her reaction, he left his hand on her back - just to let her know he was there.

"Shit!" Sara lashed out, punching a cushion violently.

Grissom smoothly rubbed Sara's back, but still kept the distance between them. 

"I hate being like this! This isn't me! This is someone else! Shit!" She punched the cushion once again, harder still. 

She rounded on Grissom, practically shouting. "Look what he's turned me into! Look who I've become! Look at me!" She gestured wildly around her, causing Grissom to recoil slightly, and his hand to leave her back.

She collapsed, taking her head in her hands and running her fingers almost viciously through her hair. Then, slowly, she looked over at a slightly dazed Grissom.

"What can I do?"

"Scream, if you want." He answered quietly. She looked at him, confused for a moment. He shrugged shakily, and managed to keep all but a waver of emotion out of his voice. "No neighbours." 

Sara turned away from him, and let out an angry cry, full of pain and frustration. 

Grissom wanted to hold her close, her heartrending cry reaching deep into him, but he allowed her the space she needed, because he knew she couldn't continue like this.

 When she was spent, she allowed herself to fall back, allowing her rigid body to relax. She felt worlds better, and almost didn't notice the tears rolling down her face.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them as best she could. 

**************************************************************

As Grissom wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her heavy head on his chest, Sara sobbed softly, mimicking the aftermath of the rescue.

 Now though, these weren't tears of relief. These were tears that held all her pain, physical and emotional, the long term effects of the incident arriving, making themselves comfortable. 

Huge glassy tears rolled along her nose and dripped onto Grissom's shirt, the dampness spreading, making a dark stain.

He didn't know how long he held her. Time seemed completely irrelevant.

To be this close to anyone, in the emotional sense, both frightened him and held him in awe. He looked down at Sara, her dark curls dishevelled and tangled. He couldn't see her face, and he was almost glad. To see her face now would push him over the edge and down into tears with her. He had to stay strong, for as long as she needed him. 

He took a deep breath and told her over and over that it was going to be alright, in nothing more that a whisper. He hoped she heard him.

After a while, her sobs died away, and her breathing lightened. Grissom felt her go limp in his arms, and he realised she had cried herself to sleep. Smiling half-heartedly, Grissom pulled the throw from the back of the couch down around Sara. She shifted slightly at his movement, but did not wake.

"…Oh, Sara. We'll be ok." Grissom murmured, as he stroked her hair lightly.

Soon, he too was sleeping deeply, kept warm more by her body than the blanket.

**************************************************************

Cath span the wheel and pulled into Grissom's drive. The first light of dawn was creeping over the Vegas landscape, and she had worried about Grissom and Sara for a whole shift. She was just going to stop in for a minute and ask if they needed anything. 

After that strange phone call, she had slept for a good seven hours, and then crawled into work.

After about half an hour of meandering around the lab with the feeling that the place was empty, she ended up in the PD bullpen, and found out that Sara was staying at Grissom's, and that they seemed better.

She walked up to the front doorstep, and knocked gently. 

Nicky and Warrick had wanted to accompany her, but knowing Grissom's love of his privacy, she had insisted that she come alone.

Hearing no answer, she pulled her keys out of her purse and found the one that fitted Grissom's door. He had given her a key a long time ago, and she had rarely used it.

She pushed open the door slowly, and stepped inside. 

They're probably asleep, Cath thought, as she made her way into the lounge. 

She was only a little surprised at the sight that she found there.

Grissom was slumped over the arm of the couch, hand resting on Sara's shoulder. Sara was looking considerably more comfortable, with her head in Grissom's lap and the majority of her body covered in the throw that used to grace the back of the couch. Cath smiled.

**************************************************************


	13. Lost Chapter 13

**************************************************************

Sara woke first, completely unsure of anything. Dozily, she took in her surroundings, allowing her mind to focus. As she realised where she was, and upon whose lap she was resting her head, she suddenly became very alert, and the events of the past night came flooding back. Had she really cried in his arms? Yes. He had held her close and she had wept. It all felt so far away to her now, like it was years ago, a distant memory. 

She could hear him breathing slow, regular breaths above her, and she twitched a smile. He was still sleeping then. Shifting her body slightly to free her arm, she tried desperately not to wake him. This position was strangely comforting. She felt safe. She felt like no-one could touch her.

And yet it would have to end. Her heart fell like a lead weight to the pit of her stomach as she realised that this could never last. She would have to find her own place, live alone again. She didn't want to. Strange as it was, she felt more at home here than anywhere before, even when she was a child.

Grissom sat up suddenly, jerking out of sleep, startling her a little.

She sat up too, hoping he wasn't awake enough to notice that she had had her head in his lap. "Hey." She said, flatly.

"Mmm... Hey." He answered, rubbing his eyes then looking at her, blearily.

What a sight to greet him when he woke. Though her hair was dishevelled, and her eyes were a little puffy, she looked wonderful to him. "Are you ok?" 

"Better."

"Good. You want something to eat?" 

It was as if her stomach had heard him. On cue, it rumbled gently. "Sure."

Suddenly, something dawned on him. He was annoyed at himself for not thinking about this sooner. "Thing is, I don't know if I have enough supplies for two." 

"Oh."

"There's a store a couple of blocks away…" He eyed her cautiously.

Sara looked at him, and he could see the little glimmer of insecurity in her eyes.

"It's safe, Sara. We'll only be gone for half an hour tops…"

 "Ok." Her voice was tiny and shaky. She knew she'd have to go out at some point. She just didn't think it would have to be so soon.

 **************************************************************

Normally Grissom would have walked to the store, but today he drove. Sara sat in the passenger seat, saying nothing.

They pulled into the small parking lot, and Grissom came around to her side of the car and helped her out. 

"You ok?" he said, closing the door behind her.

She nodded. It was quiet, only a few housewives dotted around the parking lot, heading home for lunch with their young children. Everything looked fine. Everything seemed safe. And yet she felt incredibly vulnerable.

"Here." Grissom reached out his hand, and she took it willingly in her good one. Together they walked towards the big glass doors. 

**************************************************************

They chatted little as they walked around the store. 

She held onto his hand for most of the expedition, only releasing it briefly to place items in the basket that he held. 

He watched her as she gradually became more confident. Her mind was winning the battle over her fear, slowly but surely. He walked with her, trying to push to the back of his own mind the feeling that walking around a grocery store holding hands with Sara felt inexplicably right. 

Sighing, he realised that there were only two things that the world wasn't perfect. The fact that Sara's arm was in plaster, and the huge bruise that covered her cheekbone. 

It was obvious from the looks they were getting that the other shoppers thought Grissom was responsible. He tried his best to ignore them, but it was hard.

**************************************************************

They picked up some croissants and strawberry jam, Sara's favourite.

When they arrived in front of the vegetarian section, he paused. She paused with him, still clasping tightly to his hand like a young child. 

"What?" She whispered, unnerved by his sudden stop.

"If you're gonna be around for a while, we should pick up some vegetarian things…" He trailed off as he realised that she was staring at him.

"You are still a vegetarian, aren't you?"

"Yes, but…" 

_What is going on?_

"How long do you want to stay?"

He looked at her pointedly, and she released his hand and turned away, staring blankly at the shelves.

Why was it so hard to say that she never wanted to leave?

Picking a box almost at random from the shelf, she placed it in the basket, barely registering what it held.

"This'll be fine."

He nodded. 

They picked up some ice- cream, a bottle of wine and a few other things, and headed to the checkout. Sara packed the bags as Grissom paid, and together they walked out to the car, each carrying a brown bag under one arm. He walked close behind her, involuntarily trying to protect her. 

_Was this how it was going to be from now on?_

He'd always felt protective over Sara, but never been able to show it. Now it seemed he couldn't stop. 

**************************************************************

The car ride back was silent. There wasn't anything to say. She shot him little curious glances as he drove, and realised that he seemed content.

He noticed her watching him, and made a point of not taking his eyes off the road. Maybe he didn't need to know how long she'd be staying. All he needed in essence was her presence. For now, he had that. Maybe soon it would be gone, but he couldn't worry about that now. 

Flicking on the indicator, he swung into the driveway. 

**************************************************************

She took a nap in the guest room while he prepared some of the food. She was still playing catch up, feeling absolutely exhausted. It was getting better, though, and maybe she'd be able to go back to work soon. Maybe they both could.

Grissom pushed open the door to the darkened room, carrying a bowl of Thai noodles and vegetable stir fry on a tray, the meal that Sara had inadvertently picked out.

She was sleeping soundly on top of the duvet, curled up in her clothes. Her dark curls fell across her face, and he smiled.

She looked so beautiful, as the little beams of light danced through the gaps in the blind and onto the bed, giving her form a supernatural quality. Of course, he had always believed there was something magical about her. The room was completely silent, save for her light breathing.

He didn't want to ruin this picture, but he couldn't remember when she had last eaten, and that was more important that watching her sleep.

He set the tray on the bedside table, and reached out to gently tuck her hair behind her face. "Sara…?" He whispered, softly. "Wake up, Sara. I made your food."

He tenderly squeezed her shoulder, and spoke louder. "Sara."

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled. "Hey." 

"I made your food. You can eat it in here and then sleep some more, if you like."

"Thanks." She sat up and crossed her legs, then tried to pick up the tray to place it across her knees. Her cast arm was aching, and every time she tried to put a little bit of weight on it, a sharp pain coursed through her. She tried her best to hide it from him, but her efforts were in vain. She tried, but had to give up. She let her arms rest in her lap, and smiled sheepishly up at him. 

He met her smile with a subtle shake of his head, and his best 'You know I'm right' face.

"Honey, you need to take some painkillers."

Her large brown eyes widened at the term of endearment, but let it slide.

"It's ok, really. Mind over matter and all that…" She laughed nervously and looked away from him. It was weird, but in a way she liked to feel the pain. She had come so close to death, she didn't want to kill the one thing that made her feel alive.

"Sara-"

She cut him off. "-Aren't you having anything?"

He sighed and nodded. "Mine is in the kitchen."

"I'm eating alone?" She said, with a half smile.

"I didn't think you'd want to come into the kitchen to eat with me. You looked so comfortable here."

He lifted the try from the table onto her crossed legs, and smiled 

She shrugged. "I'd rather sit out there and eat with you than sit in here and eat alone."

Grissom looked at her, and realised that she wanted to just be close to him. It wouldn't matter where they were. "I could eat in here…" He lifted the tray onto her crossed knees and gently brushed her hair out of her face. 

She smiled, and he disappeared, returning quickly with a plate of scrambled eggs and two slices of lightly browned toast. A thought crossed her mind. It was around now he'd be getting up to eat breakfast. He was always in the lab before she arrived, and she got in around an hour early. They'd always pass in the hallways, two early evening ghosts, throwing themselves into the pain of others just to keep their own at bay. Now, here they were, with nothing but themselves to occupy their time.

He climbed onto the bed opposite her, curling one foot underneath him and leaving the other to hang over the edge of the bed. She watched him intensely, following his every move till he began to eat. 

Satisfied and comforted by his quiet presence, she started to eat her first proper meal in forever, and found herself ravenous.

**************************************************************


	14. Lost Chapter 14

Apologies for the long, long, _long _hiatus.

* * *

Sara finished eating before he did, clearing her bowl of every last mouthful. Placing the now much lighter tray on the table, she shifted on the bed till she was lying on her side, looking up at Grissom as he chewed his eggs. He smiled at her lopsidedly, and finished his mouthful.

"Are you still hungry? I could make you something else…"

She smiled and shook her head. In truth she could eat a fair bit more, but she didn't want to be rude. He nodded, and then raised his fork to his mouth. Her eyes followed it steadily.

It stopped before it reached his lips. "Are you sure? I can easily get you something…" He cocked his head to the side, amused.

"I'm fine, really. Finish yours." She licked her lips subconsciously.

He dropped his fork to the plate, and left it there. "I don't really want any more. I made too much… Do you want to finish it?"

Sara frowned a little. "You should eat it. I haven't seen you eat anything in a while, and -"

" -they're good eggs…"

She paused for a minute. "Okay. I'll have a mouthful. Just a taste."

He scooped a little of the eggs onto a slice of toast and held it out to her. Instead of taking it, like he thought she would, she propped herself up on her elbow and bit into it, startling Grissom.

She chewed slowly, aware that he was studying her lips with something that she couldn't quite discern.

She swallowed. "They're good eggs."

He nodded. "Here." He handed her the fork. "You need it more than I do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll make something else later."

She sat up, and he placed the plate on her lap. She smiled at him, and he was momentarily stunned. There was that Sara Sidle smile - a little dented and tarnished - but it was there, visible under the surface.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he had leaned across and planted a light kiss on her forehead.

"I'm so glad you're okay."

She closed her eyes, her dark eyelashes resting lightly on her cheeks.

"Me too, Gris. Me too."

* * *

It didn't take her long to finish her eggs, and Grissom took the empty plates back to the kitchen.

She looked around the lamp-lit room, noticing for the first time that the bookcases in here held old, leather bound books. Getting to her feet, she padded across to the shelves and looked at their titles. There were copies of Dickens and Shakespeare, amongst many others that she couldn't quite read, their spines were so worn and faded. She ran her fingers along them, looking for nothing.

Grissom stepped inside the room behind her, silently. He watched as she studied his books with rapture, watched as her finger skimmed volumes of Shakespearian plays, lighted quickly over the Dickens and Tolstoy.

He was stunned, however, that her finger stopped it's trail on one of his most favourite novels.

"Jane Austen was a smart woman."

He saw her startle visibly, but not as badly as he thought she might.

"She was. One of my favourite books. May I?" She looked over her shoulder to where he stood, and he gestured for her to take it down.

She carried it over to the bed, the antique bindings feeling smooth in her hands, and placed it on her pillow. Turning to him, she raised an eyebrow.

"I never had you down as an Austen fan, Gris."

He winked at her. "You think you know someone…"

* * *

He knocked lightly on the bathroom door. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Satisfied, Grissom started to return to the couch.

"Hey. Gris?"

He stopped, and called back to her. "Yeah?"

"Can you get my stuff that came back from the hotel? I think it's by the door..."

"Sure. Be right back."

He looked where she suggested, expecting to find the small duffel-bag Sara had borrowed from Vega to pack all their things in. It wasn't there. A quick search of the townhouse turned up no bag.

He called out to her. "Sara? The bag's not here. We must have left it in Vega's car."

Her response came floating through his lounge. "Oh crap. Well… Can you find me something to wear to bed? A shirt or something will do…"

He found out one of his old T-shirts, one that he frequently slept in himself, but was clean, and the least threadbare. It would swamp her, probably, but in his eyes, the more of her that was covered, the saner he could stay.

He returned to the bathroom door.

"I have something. You want me to leave it on your bed?"

"Uhh. Sure. I'll be out in a second…"

He went back to the couch, and flicked on the TV.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, Sara emerged into the lounge, Grissom's T-shirt barely reaching her mid thighs.

He flicked off the TV, and turned to look at her.

"Hey. Did you have a nice bath?" He fought to keep his focus on her face and not the long legs that happened to be in his eye line.

"Yes thanks. I'm kinda tired again now though. Going to turn in." She yawned a little.

He nodded his approval. "Okay. Do you want something to drink? Some tea, or hot chocolate or anything?"

She smiled at him. This was a side of Grissom she still wasn't used to. This openly caring, generous man sitting in front of her was the one she fell in love with all those years ago. God, she'd missed him.

"Thanks, Gris. I'll have some hot chocolate."

"Okay. I'll bring it in to you when it's done."

"I can wait here if you-"

He cut her off. "I'll bring it in. Go on…" He nodded emphatically towards the bedroom door.

As he stood and walked into the kitchen, Sara stared after him for a moment, then turned and headed to the bedroom.

* * *

When he came in to her room, Sara glanced up from the book she had pulled from the shelf earlier. She looked so comfortable, curled up under the duvet, eyes sparkling. That bruise was really fading, turning from deep purple to a rich pink tinted with yellow. It would be gone completely in a day or so, he hoped.

"How many times have you read that book, Sara?" He asked, as she closed up the book and placed it on the bed next to her.

"Too many." He handed her the mug when she'd sat up a little, and looked comfortable. "Thanks." She took a small sip, sighing heavily as she swallowed the hot liquid.

Grissom sat himself on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and looked Sara in the eye. "How're you feeling?"

The expression of concern on his face told her that he didn't want an answer about being tired, or being in pain. He wanted to know how she was feeling mentally. If she was suffering inside her head and not telling him.

She couldn't lie to him. Not after all this.

"I don't… I don't know. Sometimes it's okay. When the lights are on, and the sun is up, it's okay. But when it's dark… When I woke up in that warehouse and it was dark… I can't…" Her eyes were wide, and Grissom couldn't bring himself to force her on. Soon, she'd have to talk about it all… for tonight, for now, she could just let it be. At least outwardly.

"It's okay. We'll talk when you want to." He picked up the copy of 'Pride and Prejudice', and turned it in his hands. "My father left me these books… Well. He left them behind when he left us behind. Aren't they beautiful?"

Sara blinked in sudden stunned confusion. Grissom was sitting here in front of her, so desperate to change the subject, to ease her discomfort that he was talking about his family. He looked so vulnerable, so small. She couldn't believe this was the same Gil Grissom she'd worked with for four years, and known for many more years than that.

"Yes, they are." She reached over and placed her hand on top of his, both of them resting on the warm leather of the book.

To her surprise, he lifted their hands and kissed the back of hers, so gently she wasn't even sure it had happened. Then he touched her face, rubbed her cheek with the ball of his thumb. "You should get some sleep."

"Read to me, Grissom…"


End file.
